My Life | Randy Susan Meyers

My Father Bought Me Pretty Shoes

June 21, 2015June 21, 2015 by Randy Susan Meyers

I dreaded Father’s Day as a child. Every year (during those far less aware days) we were asked to make a card for our father as a classroom project. My father died when I was nine, so from that day forward I made cards for my grandfather, embarrassed by my lack. I don’t know much about my … Read more

Collective Guilt vs Collective Fear

May 20, 2013 by Randy Susan Meyers

â€œJustice is better than chivalry if we cannot have both.â€ -Alice Stone BlackwellÂ The Internet is a tricky beast. Sitting alone, cozy in ragged sweatpants, writing while curled on the couch, itâ€™s easy to believe that youâ€™re cloaked in isolation, even as you spill on that most public of forums. Thus, I hesitate before … Read more

Back in Baby’s Arms?

December 11, 2012December 10, 2012 by Randy Susan Meyers

I had a visit from the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future this year—but unlike Scrooge’s rattling guys, my spirits crept in on the first night of Hanukkah. They told me I’d been whining about my unrequited crush on Santa for too many years. They told me it wasn’t him, but me. Yes, he’d … Read more

Stupid Book Clubs, Depressing Libraries & Horrible Bookstores

April 20, 2015November 26, 2012 by Randy Susan Meyers

Recently I listened to Joe Queenan—author of a book about his love of books and reading—on NPR (the soundtrack of my life) eager for the pleasure of hearing someone who reads as voraciously (okay, more) as I do, and loves books as intensely (not possible that it could be more) and who, like me, is obsessed … Read more

Talismanic Objects

September 2, 2012September 2, 2012 by Randy Susan Meyers

My dear friend and neighbor, Linda, sent me this rubber duck, which she made into a duck reading my book. Reading Duck oversees the bathroom and cannot be moved. If he left the room, my sense of safety would be shaken.

This morning I drank coffee from my Stephanie mug—the mug I bought the day I shook virtual hands with my literary agent (named, um, Stephanie.) I was in Rhinebeck visiting my sister—which made the entire episode extra special—and flying on the wings of love, I drifted into a gift shop where I saw this mug:

Being that my agent is French and we’d just had a conversation as smooth